


Torn Hearts

by Maiarme



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Historical, F/M, Sibling Incest, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 08:55:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14690724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiarme/pseuds/Maiarme
Summary: Aztecs - AU. Luke is the Emperor, Leia is a High Priestess. Torn hearts, golden blood, etc."They call me Al-Deraan, the One Who Speaks With the Gods, but the name I was given during my coronation will remain hidden from mortal knowledge until I unite with my ancestors in the eternity."





	Torn Hearts

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Вырванные сердца](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/381897) by Maiarme. 



> The text was originally written in Russian, it is a translation (great thanks to BrotherSkywalker).

They call me Al-Deraan, the One Who Speaks With the Gods, but the name I was given during my coronation will remain hidden from mortal knowledge until I unite with my ancestors in the eternity.

 

Among the living only husband of mine, brother of mine, knows it.

 

My mother was queen and High Priestess, as should all queens be, and in her veins flowed the golden and black blood of the Naboo. My father was a fallen Jedi Knight, a former slave and murderer, an oath breaker, and the Chosen One. Three bloody signs were fulfilled on the day of his birth: his mother was a virgin; dew bloodied; and the Moon overshadowed the Sun, leaving only a black rim crowning the heavens. My father renounced his destiny, tarnishing himself with crime, succumbing to weakness, and the royal crown around upon his brow transformed into a cursed mark.

 

My brother and I were not born but were torn from the womb of our dying mother. We were saved by our father's mentor, a mighty warrior with an eagle's eye, a knight of the Jedi clan: Obi-Wan Kenobi.

 

He overtook our father with righteous vengeance and fought him on the igneous slopes of Mustafar. They were equals in strength, like two raging rivers, two impassable mountains, but our father had broken all his vows when he killed the sacred children, and so the gods shunned him. Obi-Wan struck true, chopping off my father's arms and legs, and left him burning alive, without even a mercy blow to hasten death. Obi-Wan's heart, and the whispers from the gods, directed his actions. Great and terrible things happen when duty and desire are woven together.

\--

My brother fought the duel of honor with the last Emperor and he was victorious. He put on the twisted crown of antlers and a cloak of human skin--the sign that the New Emperor ascends to the throne.

 

Those who stood near him whispered.

 

"He does not have a sister," they said, "and he cannot rule. He does not have a sister, and he will condemn our livestock to death, our warriors to impotence, our women shamed to be barren. He does not have a sister whom he could marry and who would speak with the gods for us. They will become deaf to our pleas. He does not have a sister, and his children will be only half-kings. Another's blood will sing through their veins and drown out the heavy black and golden rumble. The royal line will degenerate, weaken, and our people will falter with it. And from the west, where once the gods swam, strangers will come and enslave us, bring down our gods and trod our banners into the mud."

\--

My sworn mother is the queen-priestess, Breha. Her name is not hidden because she is not the High Priestess. Though she is noble and beautiful, she is only one of many. It was she that took my hand and fearlessly stepped forward, before the stern gaze of the New Emperor.

"My Emperor," she said, "listen to me, and only then decide my fate."

 

"Speak, Priestess."

 

"Nineteen spills of the Great River ago, under the cover of night, under bright summer stars, a knight of the Jedi clan came to me. It was the father of your spirit, your mentor, the inspirer of your revenge: Obi-Wan Kenobi. He was carrying a newborn baby girl wrapped in goatskins. This is she.”

 

All eyes turned toward me, and I stood, pierced by their spears-like glances. But his was the only glance I longed for and it did not hurt but caressed me.

 

My mother continued to speak. “He told me who her mother and father were and begged me to raise her as my own daughter and teach her everything that a priestess should know. He knew that the old Emperor, destroyed by you today, would have wanted her for himself, and Obi-Wan wanted to avoid such fate for her.”

 

And my brother came down from the dais, approached me, and touched my chin with his bloody fingers.

 

My mother, the priestess of Chalchiuhtlicue--the goddess of water--quieted for a moment. Then she continued her speech. "He also told me that when he cut you out of your mother's womb, you held her hands, intertwined your legs and umbilical cords, and for a long time he could not decide to give you up because he considered such a birth an omen from the gods. There were no skillful priestesses, women or others with him, and your mother died, but both of you survived. Your sister stands in front of you, Your Majesty. Your own twin sister."

\--

My brother told me later that he believed my sworn mother the moment he touched my skin. He was cold with women before then, entering their chambers without trembling, and did not care about them one way or another. But when he touched me, crossing a hand over the corpse of his defeated enemy, black thirst eclipsed his mind, like the bloodthirsty fervor of a battle. In that moment, my brother wanted nothing more than to tear my dress away, go through me with his fire, aching to know my very essence. But he knew that was not the way he should marry me. I am not a slave, but equal to him in blood and spirit. And he is a true lord; even his fiery passions subdued to his will. He lowered his hand and stepped back.

 

He also told me later that he immediately realized that I was his sister, that I was destined for him, because his desire for me so blinded and deafen him.

\--

 

Not everyone believed my sworn mother, queen priestess Breha. One of the nobles, the commander and leader named Tarkin, challenged her. "Your words, O priestess, are too joyful. Brother and sister, twins, like the supreme gods? Such children are rare and precious; they promise happiness and prosperity to all people. But everyone knows how changeable water is; how inconstant and terrible the goddess whom you serve. Everyone knows how easy it is to tell a truth that is as deceptive as the lie itself. Tell me, who can confirm your words?"

 

And my mother answered, "Blood."

 

They blindfolded me with a black linen shawl, plugged my ears with frozen tar, bound my hands and placed me in the very center of the throne room. Ten times ten people came into the throne room, and each time I needed to seek out my brother. It was a heavenly, righteous and ruthless court, for my mother and I were threatened with a shameful death: we would be destroyed by dogs if I was mistaken.

 

But the gods were with me, and they guided my path. I took a firm step, not touching anyone in the dense crowd; I just followed the fire of his burning soul, like a moth flying to its doom. I approached him close, extended a hand to his face and said, "Here's my brother."

 

My hand burned, the same flame that touched him touches me now.

 

He is my brother, I realized with absolute clarity, and he is destined for me, because in that moment I, too, became blind and deaf from my sudden passion.

\--

The overthrown Emperor was buried under the floor of our house so his valor and fortune served now our family. We left the sword in his hands and the armor on his body, because he died as a warrior.

 

All his wives, mistresses and children were killed in a bloodless death, and then their blood collected in a huge vat. My brother drank only a sip of this, wiped his mouth with his white handkerchief and sent the rest to the priestly chambers.

 

Eight priestesses served me on the day of our wedding. They bathed me in this blood, painted my body with patterns, the meaning of which remain hidden from the minds of the uninitiated. These were the signs of Fire and Water, Day and Night, Birth and Death and Sky. Separately, between my shoulder blades the priestesses wrote the sign of the Earth, for all things are born from it and all things return to it. Women from fifteen noble clans painted their marks on my body, swearing allegiance to me as their only mistress. The Priestess of Coatlicue--the goddess of birth and death--was the highborn Ahsoka Tano, who wore a snake dress and multicolored braids that curled like loving snakes, and she kissed me on the lips to convey to me the breath of her goddess. It promised that that very night, laying on a bed with the Emperor, I would conceive his heir.

\--

The path to our throne was opened by two torn hearts: the bull’s and the human’s.  
I entered under the canopy of the scarlet tent to remain hidden from greedy eyes so I could watch my brother’s duel with the bull. If he were to be defeated, both of us as impostors would suffer. Our skins would have been flayed from our bodies while we still lived. But there was no fear in my heart: I heard the whispers of the gods, and they promised us many years of prosperity and greatness to our Empire.

 

And my brother, armed with a only spear, stood up against the bull, and defeated it. He could not lose, for he was chosen by the gods. He was youthful, golden-haired and blue-eyed, looking so much like a young god himself. He was beautiful, my brother, when he went out to fight, and became more beautiful yet when he finished the duel with one well-aimed, strong blow.

 

With a short knife he ripped open the bull's chest--life still flowing through it's veins--and cut out it's trembling heart. My brother raised it high so all could see his strength and valor and recognize him as the rightful ruler.  
\--

 

Only one heart remained, and it was my duty to tear it out.

 

The patriarchs of fifteen noble clans lined up in front of me.

 

Eight days have passed since my brother's duel with the bull.

 

Eight young prisoners were killed on the altars of eight gods, their chests open by three-edged knives.

 

Priests tore out their hearts and I threw them on the altars of the gods. I did not take these hearts myself, because I was waiting for the final heart.

 

The first heart I put into the fire, the second into the river, the third in a vessel as golden as the day, the fourth in a vessel silver like the night. The fifth I gave to the priestess

midwifes which they cut it into many pieces, boiled in blessed water, and sealed the resulting elixir, giving it to women in labor. The sixth heart was buried in the cemetery, where slept the greatest warriors of our clan. The seventh heart I pierced with five arrows and threw to the birds. I buried the eighth heart in the garden and planted a tree over it, for all things born from the earth are returned to the earth.

 

My brother watched with fiery eyes the ways in which I performed the ceremony; the ways in which I ruled over the priests; the ways in which I made my sacrifices to the gods.

 

He approached me, kissed me with his hot, dry lips, and embraced me in his strong arms.

 

But I did not return his affection because I did not have a name and any evil spirit could take over my body in those nine days should I be careless or weak. The name given to me at birth was obliterated after I received the first heart from the priests of Fire. The name that my brother and husband would give me had not yet sounded. I was careful and did not look at him, although I longed to. I was torn from his embrace, although I ached to touch him in return. I turned my face away when he kissed me, because such was the rite and such was the law.

\--

Soon, only the ninth heart remained and at last the ninth day finally dawned.

 

The ninth heart was meant not for the gods, but for us: the Emperor and the High Priestess.

 

This heart should come from the breast of a patriarch of a noble clan.

 

Fifteen warriors gathered before me, each yearning to be chosen: it is a great honor, and the gods themselves will greet the man who voluntarily goes to the sacrifice. His posthumous reward is more beautiful than any life, and his family, remaining in the mortal realm, will be blessed twice over, once by the gods and once by my brother the Emperor.

 

Fifteen strong men prayed for my knife to rip open their breasts, but I could not be deceived: our people would pay dearly if I were mistaken. I looked into the depths of these men, but did not look at their faces because the gods do not distinguish such things. I came close to one, but the gods were silent: they were not interested in him. I passed the second, and the third, but on the fourth, I became deaf from the lusting moans in my heart from our ever-hungry gods.

 

I watered him with a sweet and bitter potion. I kissed him on the lips, and with two three-edged knives I tore out his still-beating heart. I gave it to my brother, a sign of our power over people.

\--

When night fell over the city exhausted from the celebrations, my brother--my groom--took my hand and led me into his chambers.

 

Fourteen young men from noble clans stood guard around our bedchamber, and all night they plucked their bowstrings, banging their spears against their shields, beating dagger to dagger so the spirit of a great warrior would rise in my body, born from my brother's seed. Eight young priestesses sat around our bedchamber, spinning, weaving and singing, so that the spirit of a great priestess would enter my blood, which my brother will shed this night.

Brother of mine, the one and only brother of mine, the Sun of Midnight, put his lips to my trembling lips. And for the first time in my entire life I looked at him directly and called him by his name.

 

"Luke."

 

And brother of mine, beloved brother of mine, gave me a name that is consonant with his.

 

"Leia."

 

He embraced my body, and he was impassioned, and he was gentle with me, and he shed my blood. And so great was his love for me that he never took any other wife or mistress.

 

And I, the High Priestess, the One Who Speaks With the Gods, Al-Deraan, Leia, that night I conceived the greatest of our warriors, the Coming Emperor, a boy named Ben.

 

Five years later, on the same warm summer night, I gave birth to a daughter, whose face is nearly indistinguishably from mine. One day my son will name her, though even now despite still being a child he looks at her as if there is nothing else in the world. It is in their eyes, and in the roar of their golden and black blood, I feel the will of the gods and see their destiny to each other.

 

And our kingdom will stand for a thousand years.


End file.
